


Rabbit

by Cookabeara



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:40:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23112595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cookabeara/pseuds/Cookabeara
Summary: What Bernadetta wanted to be a hunting lesson doesn't turn out the way she hoped. She still ends up learning something from Petra.
Relationships: Petra Macneary & Bernadetta von Varley, Petra Macneary/Bernadetta von Varley
Comments: 5
Kudos: 43





	Rabbit

She had known Petra for...how many years now? Yet still, approaching her was difficult. After mustering up the courage to initiate a conversation (she could _easily_ kill me with those arms, but she won’t, right?), Bernadetta awkwardly shuffled up to the other woman when she spotted her near the stables.

“Uh, hey Petra—”

Upon hearing her name, Petra turned away from the horse she had been petting and toward Bernadetta. The latter jumped, startled by the swiftness of the movement, but felt her nerves ease when the former smiled warmly.

“Good morning, Bernadetta. Is there something you are needing me for?” asked the younger woman, tossing the hair that had been disturbed by her sudden turn back over her shoulder. Bernadetta blinked. She had been staring, but Petra hadn’t said a thing about it.

“Oh, uh…yes! There’s something I’d like to ask you.”

Bernadetta fidgeted with her sleeve cuff as Petra waited patiently for the question. The glimmer in her deep eyes and softness of her lips as she smiled were nothing but genuine.

“Remember when you, uhm...tried to teach me how to hunt?” she finally muttered. Petra’s face lit up.

“Oh! Yes, of course!” She frowned in a contemplative manner, tapping a finger to her chin. “You are not still worrying that I will shoot you, are you?”

“I am! N-Not! That’s—” Bernadetta took a deep breath to collect herself. “I was wondering if you would maybe...give me a visual demonstration. Somewhere nice and secluded…” You know, a place where no one would mock Bernie for her inability to do anything right. “...ah! Unless you don’t want to!”

“Of course! I would be liking that, Bernadetta.”

“Oh, really? In that case—”

She was cut off by a hand on her arm. She initially flinched, but the panic was brief and shoved aside in favor of confusion. Her eyes drifted up Petra’s toned arm until they eventually came upon her face. Bernadetta shot her a questioning look, brows knit with worry.

“I know a good place. Follow me.”

“Huh? W-Wait!”

Too late. Petra was already dragging her off. Bernadetta voiced her protests, but did nothing to fight back as she stumbled awkwardly behind.

  
  


Bernadetta had thought war would have desensitized her to killing. How many foes had she sent an arrow through so that she and her friends may survive? How many encounters with great big beasts resulted in her contributing to the effort to slay it?

Yet she couldn’t bring herself to shoot the rabbit.

Her arrow had been aimed and drawn. The bow had become a part of her, just as the pen, the brush, and the needle had.

She _could_ do it. She could release the arrow. She could kill the rabbit. But she _wouldn’t_. She wouldn’t put an end to the life of the animal before her; the animal oblivious to the fact that its fate was being mulled over by another.

Bernadetta lowered the bow, easing the tension off of the string. She shook her head, biting her quivering lip as tears of shame stung her eyes.

“I can’t,” she whispered. The woman behind her placed her hands upon her shoulders, causing Bernadetta to jump in shock and drop her weapon. The rabbit, startled by the clatter of the bow, was quick to flee. “Useless,” muttered Bernie as she watched the creature sprint away, rubbing her eye with a gloved hand. “You’re fucking useless, Bernie.”

“Bernadetta, please do not say these things about yourself,” Petra said, rubbing soothing circles on her companion’s shoulder blades with her thumbs.

“I’m pathetic.” Despite Petra’s words, Bernadetta continued to spat bitterly. “A coward. Should have just stayed in my room today...better to be a pathetic, useless coward in private.”

“You are not any of those things, Bernadetta. Look at me, please.”

Bernadetta furiously shook her head, shuddering as tears spilled from her eyes and left wet trails on her cheek.

“You’re disappointed in me,” she stated, voice cracking. She chewed at her lip, no doubt making it bleed. “I’m wasting your time. You should just leave me here.”

With a rough pull, Bernadetta was forcefully spun around. She expected to see anger when her gaze fell upon Petra. Instead, the younger woman’s brow was furrowed and her lips were drawn downward into a frown. Her soft maroon eyes, exuding nothing but sympathy and sincerity, stared back into meek ashen ones that struggled to remain forward-facing.

“I am not disappointed. Please, do not be thinking that I am.”

“I couldn’t do it.”

“No, Bernadetta. You did not do it, but that is fine.”

“You were right, you know,” Bernadetta said, cracking a smile. Petra raised an eyebrow.

“Right about which?”

“Remember what you said? Back when we were students? You said that I reminded you of prey.” The archer let out a laugh, the corners of her eyes wrinkling as tears continued to drip down her jaw and off her chin. “You were right. I’m weak, and I’m a coward. Like prey. Like the rabbit.”

Petra squeezed Bernadetta’s arms tighter as she shut her eyes. Bernadetta prepared to be scolded, recognizing the telltale signs. Instead, the former took a deep breath and shook her head before she opened her mouth to speak calmly.

“You are not understanding, Bernadetta.”

“What?”

“When I say you are like prey, I am not meaning that you are weak or cowardly. Prey — the rabbit — is not weak and cowardly. Prey is brave, Bernadetta. The rabbit is roaming the forest every day and is knowing that it may die. But the rabbit still leaves its home, and the rabbit survives.” Petra grinned. “You are very brave, Bernadetta.”

“You say that, but...all I do is hide away in my room. I’m too afraid to even live, Petra.”

“That is not the truth at all. You have been fighting in this war with us. You have been surviving.” Petra’s hands dropped to Bernadetta’s, clasping them tightly, but tenderly. “Right now, you are here. Outside. With me.”

Bernadetta couldn’t muster up anything to say. Instead, she let the dam crumble. Sobbing, she let herself fall forward; her face landed in Petra’s shoulder. A pair of arms wrapped around her — one hand settling just above her hip and the other on her shoulder. Unable to voice any form of thanks, Bernadetta instead reciprocated the gesture by throwing her arms around Petra’s shoulders. Neither of them moved, even after the archer’s sobbing died down into tiny sniffles and the occasional, shuddery breath.

With a deep breath, Bernadetta peeled herself back to look her friend in the eye.

“Thank you for...being here with me...a-and everything…” she stuttered out, wiping tears away with gloved palms and shirt sleeves. Petra didn’t say a word — in Bernadetta’s native language, anyway — before she pulled her into another hug.

**Author's Note:**

> I've sat on this empty account for about three years. Since my friends and I have fallen into an obsession with this game, though, the urge to write is strong.
> 
> Especially when we're robbed of so many potential A Supports.


End file.
